The Park Road Pulpit

  Sermons from Park Road Baptist Church

      Russ and Amy Jacks Dean, Pastors

The Day Jesus Was Wrong: The Silence of Good People

Matthew 15:20-28

Amy Jacks Dean, October 27, 2002

Preparation for the reading of Scripture:

            I cannot simply read the text today. I have to give some background so that it makes better sense because today we see a different side of Jesus.  No matter how many times I read this text I cannot get rid of the thought that this was the day that Jesus was wrong. Matthew and Mark both tell this same basic story. Matthew tells that Jesus has withdrawn into the district of Tyre and Sidon. This was predominantly Gentile territory, but he does not seem to be there seeking any mission activity among the Gentiles. A Canaanite woman from that district seeks him out. Canaanites were a despised indigenous people with whom Israelites were not to associate. So we have a male, Jewish, Galilean, wandering teacher and healer approached by a female, Gentile, Canaanite, mother of a sick daughter, and two worlds collide. (Theology Today, “Spirit, Mercy, and the Other,” Judith Gundry-Volf and Interpretation, “Matthew,” Douglas R. A. Hare, page178)

            She says, “Have mercy on me, Lord” and heal my daughter. And Jesus says NOTHING. There is nothing louder than the silence of good people. Then his disciples, always protecting him and never quite understanding his mission to the least of these, encourage Jesus to send her away. Now the Jesus we know and love and try to follow is supposed to rebuke the disciples for not understanding and then show compassion on the woman and heal her daughter. But, no, this is the day that Jesus was wrong. And he says I was sent only for the lost Jews. But being persistent, she pleads again, and kneels in front of him and says, “Lord, help me.” Now the Jesus we know and love and try to follow is supposed to go the extra mile and carry the heavy burden and show compassion and heal her daughter. But, no, this is the day that Jesus was wrong. He says that it’s not fair to give to her what really belongs to only the chosen people of God – he says that would be like feeding the dogs with the food for the family. And then, in her great wisdom and courage, she says yes, Lord, but even the dogs get the scraps from the table. (Read the text)

The sermon:

Her name was Donna and she was homeless. I was teaching a class on basic life skills to try to move her to a life of self-sufficiency. I wasn’t even trying to move her from welfare-to-work. She wasn’t even on welfare – yet. I was trying to get her on welfare so that someone else could help her get off of welfare – eventually. Our session at the temp agency – learning how to fill out job applications appropriately - had gone long and Donna had missed her bus. I told her that I would give her a ride back across the city to the homeless shelter where she lived. As we made our way across town, going under a bridge that was a home for many, Donna said, matter-of-factly, “I am so blessed.” What I thought! You? Blessed? “I have food, a mattress, and a hot shower. I am so blessed.” I shall never forget that moment. It was the day I met a Caananite woman. It was also the day that a small piece of my stereotyping prejudice was chipped away, and I knew that I had been just like Jesus – wrong about the way I thought about people in poverty.

            Her name was Katrina, but we all called her Trina. She was one angry, black woman with a bad attitude. She could make me so angry so fast. She took advantage of every system at every turn. She was in my welfare-to-work program to keep from working, so I thought. Her little boy got more presents at Christmas because she was on every needy Christmas list available. She was moody and volatile. She would just as soon cuss me out as look at me. The whites of her eyes were more yellow than white indicating alcohol and drug use and abuse. Ten weeks I spent with that woman – day in a day out – five days a week, wasting my time with someone who was no more than a lazy statistic. Until the day we went to the temp agency to practice dressing for a job interview and filling out job applications appropriately. As the women loaded the van to head back to class, you’ll never guess who called shotgun. Trina. But she jumped in all smiles that day uttering these words, “I am so blessed.” What I thought! You? Blessed? “I got a job valet parking at the Birmingham Country Club tomorrow night. I am so blessed.” Next thing I knew, Trina had a job at a restaurant and a month later she was named “Employee of the Month.” I shall never forget the first Christian Women’s Job Corps graduation night because Trina was not there – she had to work that night, but when her name was called out, I knew that ten weeks prior I had met a Caananite woman. It was also the day that a small piece of my stereotyping prejudice was chipped away, and I knew that I had been just like Jesus – wrong about the way I thought about young, single, black mothers caught in a system that keeps them desperate and angry and struggling.

            Today the Gospel story from Matthew is good, good, good news, because today I caught a thankfully rare glimpse of Jesus. Today Jesus was silent when he should have spoken. He was silent when he should have been an advocate. Today Jesus said the wrong thing, and his words were wounding to a fragile, different, despairing, and broken woman. And today, Jesus changed his mind and his actions and his focus and his mission because he was compelled by the great faith of a Canaanite woman. Jesus was like me because sometimes I keep silent when I should speak and sometimes I speak when I should keep silent and sometimes I say wounding words and sometimes – sometimes – I am compelled by people of great faith to live up to who God created me to be.

            Bill Dols suggests “might not this be a story in which a shouting Canaanite woman leads Jesus to reassess his mission – re-vision who he is . . . Is the uppity and brash outsider helping Jesus to find a God who is bigger – big enough to include people like her and even us?” (Just Because It Didn’t Happen, page 123)

            History tells us that often it is the victim, the oppressed, who finally have to come to their own defense and aid that they might bring order out of chaos and right out of wrong. Hopefully, you have read the silent meditation printed in your order of worship, which reminds us that it was predominantly the non-violent resistance of the black community that forged a way for the civil rights movement in the 1960’s. In the title song of his new CD “Sing Down,” Kyle Matthews says,

Wives and mothers, a priest, a farmer

A bright young preacher with a dream

Set out to walk from Selma Alabama

To a Promised Land that they would never see

The men held hands just to keep from running

As the buckshot whistled past their ears

They had no choice but to raise their voices

So the marching songs were all that they could hear

They tried to

Sing down the dark clouds

Choke back the fear

Sing down their anger over all the lost years

They tried to sing down the one sound

That was most loud and clear

The silence of good people

Ringing in their ears.

            Would I have been one of those silent good people? I wonder if a Canaanite woman sits in our midst today – hurting and wounded and in need of healing. Will we listen to her and be changed? I wonder how the Canaanite woman will come to each of us this week, and I wonder what will she look like? Will he be sick? Will she look different from us? Act different? Will he be of another race and culture? A different faith? What will he need? Will our silence hurt her ears or will our words wound him? Will we allow ourselves out of our own comfort zones in order to help him, her, them?

            Or will we be like Jesus and finally get it right? Because this was also the day that Jesus was right. Will we be compelled by another’s faith to bring healing and hope and help? There was a moment of a day where I believe Jesus was wrong, until a Canaanite woman of great faith showed him The Way, and it made all the difference. Jesus taught us that day that we can change – that we can become all that God created us to be – and to think anything less would be to rob God of the joy that is found in God’s children caring for God’s children.

I often think about Donna and Trina, and I wonder how they are making it. If I had to guess I’d say they are not currently self-sufficient, though I pray that they are. But those two women  - one white/one black, one old/one young, one calm/one angry – both poor – said to me “I am so blessed” – and I was changed. May it be so for you as well.

Pastoral Prayer

O God this day, give us the courage and strength of that Canaanite woman. Give us her great faith that we might change the world.

O God this day, give us the courage and strength of Jesus that we would recognize when we are wrong and work to bring wholeness and healing. Give us his great faith that we might change the world.

O God this day, work a miracle and change us, renew us, give us Your voice. Bring to us those who are different. Bring to us those who are wounded. Bring to us those who are lonely and depressed. Bring to us those who are in need. So that they all may change us and that we might live up to being all that you created us to be. Amen.